Dragons Enterwined
by PaChA mAmA
Summary: Two Men sacrifice themselves to save the worlds they live in and one of them is given a second chance to be something. The M is for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Hey yeah a crossover. I've thought about this story for months. Hope ya'll like.

* * *

Armored flesh gave way under his blade.

He could feel the power of the Archdemon ripping through him, it was a pain like a hundred thousand sewing needles piercing through his skin tied with spider silk. In the back of his mind he heard that mourning cry of his friend, the new King consort. He opened his eyes and saw only flames.

"MARTIN!" a woman screamed.

Something burst outside of him and he clattered, broken, to the stony bottom. To his left he heard sobbing. Heart wrenching sobbing, a sound he had heard far too often in his life. Pain wracked as he was he forced his eyes open and looked toward the sound. It was a woman, hard to tell with the armor and red hood covering the head but the voice was female. Laying next to her was a sword, discarded when she fell to crying.

"No, Martin, how could you!" she sobbed. "You promised, Martin."

A door creaked and thumped open a head of him releasing booted footsteps the crashed closer.

"By the Nine! Quickly shut the door!" a man gasped and then ordered. It was the sound of a man who knew how to lead.

A few pairs of footsteps padded over to him and he felt himself being flipped over onto his back. "Gently men, we don't know how badly this man is hurt." he voice came from...an elf?

The elf wore red robes that fit nicely with his golden skin. Three armored men were with him, though the armor was nothing like he had seen before. This elf was surprisingly tall compared to the men in armor. The elf turned to look at the woman on her knees and gave a sharp intake of breath.

"Atia!" he cried and rushed out of Alistair's vision. "Atia please, the men-"

"Blast you Ocato I don't care what the men think!" the woman growled, tear choked and angry. "Martin is gone! We have no Emperor! It was for nothing!"

"Where is Martin?"

There was silence and Alistair flopped his head over to see Atia pointing up...at the dragon statue that loomed over him. His brow knit in confusion. How can a man become a statue? Why was the statue a dragon? Were dragons revered as gods here? Was this Tevinter?

"He turned into Akatosh?" Ocato asked in wonderment.

Atia nodded and for the first time since he came to be in this place she noticed him. She glared at him and then her brow relaxed into soft sympathy and she slowly got to her feet. Her armor was ebony etched in gold gilding dark against drab gray. She came over and knelt next to him, studying him. There were no visible wounds but she knew wounds were not only on the inside.

"We need to get this man out of here." she replied but where would they take him? He wasn't here a moment ago when... "We need to get him to the Arcane University, the Mages Guild owes me."

She dug a tiny vial out of a pouch tied to her sword belt and tipped the contents into his mouth. He felt the liquid slide down his throat and then darkness consumed him.

* * *

Rabbit was licking him to wake him up and Alistair hated that. He tried to push the hound away and was met by small hands and shushing. Rabbit was a dream and the tongue turned to a soft, wet cloth that slid over his bare arms. He tried to open his eyes but his lids were too heavy. He groaned in protest and sighed in surrender.

"It's alright, hatchling." a raspy voice cooed and he could swear it sounded female. "You are safe, relax."

Hatchling?

Alistair forced his eyes open and he looked towards the sound of the voice. Shrouded by candlelight was a creature that looked like a lizard and person had mad love and birthed a child. He screamed, a high pitch scream that would rival any maid. The Lizard woman jumped out of her chair and dashed out of the room, her robe fluttering behind her.

He continued screaming in shock until the door opened again and a white haired man, in blue robes and a smiling face, came in. He came over to the bed and stared down at the Warden until he stopped screaming.

"What was that?" Alistair gasped as he tried to catch his breath.

"That was Tar-Meena, one of my best archivists in Tamriel." the man chuckled. "As for what she is: she is an Argonian. A race of Mer that make their home in Black Marsh, to the southeast of this Province."

Alistair watched the man with a wary eye. "Who are you?"

"My name, dear boy, is Hannibal Traven, and I am Arch-Mage of the Cyrodiil Mage's Guild" the man smiled and sat in the chair that Tar-Meena had vacated with his screaming and flailing. "and you are in the mage's quarters of the Arcane University in the Imperial City."

Alistair's brow furrowed in confusion and held up his hands in surrender. "The what in the where? Is this in Tevinter? Are you from the Circle? Look, I know I'm supposed to be dead but please don't cut me open."

Hannibal tried to placate the boy and lowered his hands with a tsk. "I have no idea where this Tevinter is or who the Circle is supposed to be but no one will be cutting you open. Do you remember what happened to you before you came to be here?"

Alistair lowered his gaze. "I-I killed the Archdemon and it felt like his soul was ripping me to shreds through my armor. Then I heard screaming and when I opened my eyes was in this world and a woman...Atia? She was crying and calling someone's name."

Traven nodded at the last bit. "Young man you were found in the Temple of Akatosh under a statue of what used to be a man who should have been Emperor. Martin Septim gave his life to save our world just as you gave your life to save yours. But what is your name? I am sure you will tire of me calling you "young man" in a short while."

"My name is Alistair." he answered.

"Well, Alistair." Traven continued, "You are welcome at the University and you may explore the campus as you wish. Chancellor Ocato will be happy to hear that you are awake. Are you hungry?"

Alistair almost refused but his stomach had a different idea. "Um... yes, thank you. For everything."

Traven stood to leave. "I'll have one of the apprentices bring you something."

The older man gave him another smile and made it to the door before Alistair had the nerve to speak.

"Uh- Arch-Mage Traven?" he bit his lip and pressed on with his question. " Is Atia here? At the University? I-I wanted to thank her."

Traven nodded. "I do believe she is in the city, somewhere, if she is not on the campus grounds. I shall send her to you."

"Only if it's not a bother. I'm sure she's busy doing something important."

"It's no trouble at all." Traven soothed. He shut the door behind him leaving Alistair to study the room he was now in.

The bed was wooden, heavy oak foot and headboard with durable linens and a thick blanket. They were inside someplace well built with precisely cut stones. The floor was smooth stone with finely woven rugs and furs scattered about like islands in a grey sea. Tapestries in red and green hung from the wall, absorbing some of the warm glow from the tall candelabras that sat in the corners of the room and the small trio on a dresser near the door.

If he had walked passed it with an open doorway it would have been ordinary in Ferelden but laying this bed it was foreign and slightly sinister. There was not a comforting thing about it. Even the books looked foreign to him. Slowly he reached out to the nearest volume and tried to read the cover but the language was nothing he had seen. It was like looking at a page of Orlesian love poetry for the first time. He put the book back and sighed he body back into the downy pillow that held his head.

Nothing was making sense. Where was Wynne when you needed her? Traven told him that he had appeared when their Emperor-to-be died. _He_ should have been king in Ferelden. Was that coincidence or did the Maker want to mess with his head? He and Martin both sacrificed their lives for those that they would have ruled. Save for his friend sold him out to marry a pretty queen. Alistair felt his face close in with betrayal. The man who he called brother talked him up into being King and then smashed him against the walls of Denerim.

"Maker take you!" he shouted and hit the mattress with a forceful thump that was softened by a horsehair and pillow filled mattress. A soft knock sounded on the door and Alistair slunk back into his pillow. "Come in."

The door opened and a young girl in a green robe much like Traven's poked her head into the room. "Sir? I've brought you some soup and sweetrolls from the kitchen." she replied softly.

"Oh. Uh, thank you." he looked around to see if there was anyplace she could put down his food that he reach easily.

The girl came in with a tray carrying a bowl, a plate and a goblet. The smells of fresh bread and herbs made his stomach roar with hunger. She kept her eyes lowered and moved placed the tray down on a desk a few feet away. It was too far for him to reach and she noticed this. Alistair watched her make room on a table next to the bed and placed the tray to its final resting place.

"Smells delicious." he replied and picked up one of the three fresh rolls on the plate. The sweet, buttery taste of the rolls made him moan in pleasure.

"Sir?" the girl called his attention away from the food. "May I ask you something?"

"Shuwe." he replied around a hunk of a roll.

"We're you really in the Temple of the One with the Champion of Cyrodiil? Is she as amazing as the other apprentices say?"

Alistair swallowed his bite and thought for the moment. "The Champion of Cyrodiil? Whose that?"

The girl looked aghast. " "Whose that?" She's the slayer of Mankar Camaron! Trusted of the Septim line! She single-handedly closed the Great Gate at Bruma!"

"Did she wear a red hood and black armor?" he guessed.

The girl's look changed to pure exuberance. "Yes!"

"Then, yes, I was but I was barely breathing." he studied the girl's face for a moment.

"By the Nine!" the girl chirped. "I've got to tell the others! Thanks!"

The girl sped out of the room just like Tar-Meena had, leaving him alone to his glorious food.

* * *

Atia was burrowed deep in her bottle of wine when Tar-Meena fished her out of the Bloated Float. The owner had gotten a message to her on how she tried to get him to set sail with her so that she could drown herself in wine and then throw herself off the boat to drown herself in the bay. She was taking the death of the last Septim very hard. Her loyalty to the last of the Septim line was strong and that had some of the population wondering about how _close_ she was to the priest-prince.

Her table at the tavern had half a dozen wine bottles line up in front of her and a plate of mutton was half eaten amongst them. The Altmer who ran the place was pleasant enough to the young Imperial since she saved him from the Blackwater Brigands a couple of months ago. He was wringing his hands behind the bar and looked at the Argonian with pleading brown eyes.

"I didn't know what to do." he replied quickly. "I can't kick her out but she'll try and do something like steal the ship if I let her sleep here."

"Say no more." she replied and walked over to the Imperial. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Eat me scaly." Atia sneered. "You can tell Traven I'm not helping him so he can go do his own dirty work."

If she had an eyebrow Tar-Meena would have raised one of them or maybe both of them. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently on the decking. Atia was not known for insulting people unless it was to insult them with a parry and thrust.

"Traven didn't send me here to make you do anything except to see the young man that you saved at the Temple."

Atia snorted and glared up at her. "I don't _want_ to see him. He shouldn't be here." she drunkenly slammed his fist into the table causing her row of bottles to shake with small clings.

"Well he's here and he asked about you so we are going to sober you up and after you sleep in someplace other then the Bloated Float you are going to see him _and_ you are going to like it." the Argonian grabbed Atia's upper arm and hauled the drunk woman to her feet.

The weight of her armor and her compromised state of mind Atia knew she really didn't want to fight. She groaned at the feeling of being completely upright. Her hands grabbed a hold of the mage's robe in a death grip. Going to the Arcane University meant going through the Temple District and she couldn't handle being near Martin's tomb just yet if ever.

"Please Tar-Meena," she pouted giving her eyes a doey look that could tug at peoples' heart strings. "Don't make me go by the Temple. _He's_ there."

Tar-Meena's stern look melted at the mention of the Temple. She patted the girl's hand and nodded sympathetically. "Of course, we don't have to enter the gates. There is an outer route from here to the University we can go that way.

"Thank you," Atia sighed and leaned against her as they made their way out of the tavern and into the dark Waterfront.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much guys for reading and reviewing! Makes my day. Tell me what ya'll think

* * *

Everybody loves healing potions.

She knew she loved healing potions for the simple fact that they could get rid of hangovers with minimal pain. Of course this particular healing potion was made with some sort of secret ingredient that only the innkeeper of Wawnet Inn knew of. The elf was sensationally good at wines and over the years had developed something tart and smooth that could ease her over-indulgences. She didn't recognize the bed and the room was too small and circular and for her too be in a inn's room or a house

"You should be glad the new Guard Captain has a crush on you or you'd be sleeping in a jail cell." Tar- Meena replied from her seat by the room's table. "Luckily you'll be able to change into some clothes he brought up for you, _Champion_."

The Argonian threw a dress at her and climbed down the trap to the floor below so that she could dress in peace. It was a familiar dress, blue and silver, that dipped a little in front and left her shoulders bare. Cyrodiilic fashion was pleasant, easy to move around in and easy to keep cool and warm in. She pulled her hair up into a bun that resembled a funnel cake but it worked for her. It kept her hair out of her face when killing goblins and ogres and spriggans. Matching blue shoes completed her outfit and she hustled out of the room to catch up with the Mage if she had decided to leave her.

Luckily Tar-Meena had not left her but shoved a plate in her hand with grapes and venison on it. "Eat first, you lost everything in your stomach by the Bloated Float last night."

Atia couldn't remember anything past the the ship's gangplank. "Gross, thank you."

Tar-Meena tsked at her. "And have the possibility of the young man whom you saved see you in your drunken state with bile staining your clothes? Not a chance."

Atia popped a few grapes in her mouth and felt the sweet/tart juiciness slid down, stinging as it passed over the roughed lining of her throat. "So I wasn't dreaming it when you said he wanted to see me."

"No, Traven thought it would do him some good to see that you aren't a sobbing mess." she thrust a mug of tea in her hands as she took away her plate. "Now drink, you're breath is horrendous."

It was a strong, minty tea that soothed her throat and stomach as it freshened her breath. The trap door leading to the floor below them flipped open and a couple of the guards came through. They saw her, neater than they had seen her last night, and they bowed to her.

"Good day, Champion." a redguard guard greeted. "We are glad to see you up and about. You had us worried."

"Thank you, gentlemen." she replied with a closed mouth smile and finished off the tea. "Give my regards to your Captain for letting me stay in his quarters."

"Of course, ma'am."

Tar-Meena saw the unsure glances the men were giving them. Two Guardsmen must have just gotten off duty and were looking forward to sleeping and doing manly stuff. She smiled down at her charge. "We should be off and let these good men have their quarters."

Atia nodded with a wider smile. "You are right. Lets be off."

Tar-Meena groaned. "Let us be quick so we won't get filth from the city into my Archives."

The watchtowers were not made for women in dresses and climbing down ladders was hard in a dress. Atia was sure that a guard would open the entrance and a stray breeze would lift her skirt. Hitting the ground floor Atia scurried out the door and into the Waterfront. The quick immersion into the bright light of the sun from the cool dimness of the tower made her groan and shut her eyes. Tar-Meena chuckled behind her and guided her charge with a hand in the small of her back up the stone bridge to the path that surrounded the Imperial City.

Slowly Atia's eyes adjusted to the sunlight and she let her eyes take in the sight of the White Gold Tower standing proudly in the middle of the capital. They walked silently over to the bridge that would take them to the Arcane University. The hooded Battlemage on guard greeted them politely as they walked down the steps. A few of the apprentices were milling about and they stared at them as they walked until Tar-Meena glared fireballs at them until they looked away.

Since Atia was not a member of the Mages Guild she could not enter the University proper but she could enter the Arch-Mage's Tower. Raminus Polus, lackey of the Arch-Mage, was in the lobby. He frowned at her when she entered, noting her lack of color and slightly disheveled appearance.

"Good, your here." he replied with a small smile. He pulled out a potion bottle and handed it to her. "You do not look well, drink this and head on to the Mages' Quarters. He should be up by now though still a little weak."

Atia swiped the potion from his grasp and chugged it down without a word. The swift feel of fog lifting from her body and a spark of something in her body made her smile as she handed back the bottle. "Now _that_ was some Alchemy! Which way is he?"

Raminus pointed to the door to the left. "Third door in from the left, one of the apprentices will show you to his room. Please, he's been through a lot, be _nice_ to him."

Atia gave him a reassuring smile and slapped him on the shoulder. "No problem."

She skipped out of the door to the left and followed her path down into the main campus. Off to her left was the lecture forum where the resident scholars taught their apprentices. The mages ignored her as she made her way across the lawn and into the Mages' Quarters. It was dim and cool but charged with a potent undercurrent of magika. A pretty little dumner apprentice came up to her.

"Are you looking for someone?"

Atia grinned. "Yes, the man that was brought in here-"

"This way, Hero," the apprentice interrupted and started up the stairs.

The girl called her... Hero. Was everyone going to call her Hero? She hoped not.

The room where the man was off the main sleeping room. The apprentice knocked on the door and was answered by a muffled: "Come in."

Atia shooed the apprentice away and slowly opened the door part ways and slipped in. The man was sitting at a desk with a sheet of paper and a thin book. He looked up from what he was doing to see a woman in a blue and silver dress, and outfit he had never seen yet.

"You are Atia." he replied scooting the chair away from the desk. "The Champion of Cyrodiil."

Atia felt herself blush and shrugged. "Um... I guess I am." she took a step farther into the room. "You know my name but I do not know yours."

"My name is Alistair." he replied.

"How are you feeling?" she asked trying to keep the enemy of awkward silence, and the reminder that he should have been Martin, out of the room.

"I'll say one thing about your mages: they can brew a healing potion." Alistair smiled and then he frowned. "I'm being a bad host. Where did that other chair go?"

He looked around to find the other chair he thought he saw so that she could sit down. Atia noticed his casting gaze and saw the chair before he did. She slid it over to sit across from him, making sure her dress didn't bunch or strain. She tilted her head and tried to see what he was looking at.

"You're written word is different then my world's so Traven lent me some texts that could help me."

"Ah."

"Look, if you're here to question me then you Arch-Mage beat you to it."

Atia shook her head and held up a hand. "I'm not here to question to you."

"Oh," Alistair slumped in his seat. "Well...I-I'm sorry. I'm just still in shock about all of this. Everything was supposed to be the end when the Archdemon died. _I'm_ supposed to be dead. Instead I'm in a world where I can't read the books and mages roam _free_. I haven't _seen_ a templar and you _believe_ in not just one god but _nine_. This place is strange and I don't know anyone. I don't even know if I can go back to my world."

"Would you want to go back?" she asked. "Maybe you were sent here for a reason?"

Alistair jumped to his feet and glared down at her."I am a Grey Warden! My duty is to fight darkspawn until I..."

Atia did not flinch as he snarled down at her, she had faced worse than the man in front of her. She knew what he was going to say and sympathized with him. From the moment she stepped into the first oblivion gate in Kvatch she had planned to be the one to die in this ordeal. Everything she did could potentially kill her. This man had known his duty, had died for his duty and now he was given a second chance. He was realizing it now.

"Die?" she asked quietly. The air left him in a whoosh and he slumped back into his chair. She reached out and grabbed his larger hands in hers and felt the callouses from years of fighting.

"Yes.... I did die though, didn't I?" He didn't reject her touch but merely let his body slump over and shake. "What am I going to do? I have nothing here."

"Nothing that you've found." she replied. "_Yet_. You have entire world, new and untouched by anyone you have ever known. So many things to discover and enjoy, new people to meet and befriend."

She slid off her seat to be level with his head. Her left hand tucked itself under his chin and lifted his head up enough so that she could see the grief and sadness. Seeing the emotions of what she was feeling on his face made her heart twist and coil in her chest.

"Give yourself some time to get adjusted. Walk the Imperial City get to know the people, there are many more races of men and mer to learn about. We might surprise you." she stood and thought that he would let go of her hands but he held onto her hand. "I should let you get back to your studies."

Alistair looked back at the sheets of paper and books and sighed. "No, you don't have to go." he thought for a minute. "You could help me, I'm not the brightest person. Please?"

The pleading, puppy dog eyes he gave her made her smile. This man was not a scholar like Martin and for once she didn't have anywhere else to be. Suddenly the urge to be away from the man grew smaller. "Oh you're a charmer, aren't you?" she chuckled and pulled her chair closer to the desk. " Alright, I'll help."

* * *

The man was _not_ the brightest.

He was eager, sure, but after a few hours showing him how to write animal names made her want to slam his head into the desk. Dibella bless him he was trying but she needed a snifter of brandy and a piece of cake or she might give in to her irritation. Alistair groaned at his failings and threw his hands up in surrender.

"I give up," he snapped and pushed his chair away from the desk.

The chair's legs scraping the stone floor made Atia grimace and she sighed. "We need a break."

She tidied up the desk and slid the sheafs of paper into a neat pile and stood. Her back protested to her movements and she arched her back to stretch it out. She wasn't use to sitting at a desk for hours since getting out of prison. She threw the door open and let the fresh air of the main room and chattering of apprentices.

"What is the weather like outside?" she asked the nearest apprentice.

The Altmer looked down at her. "Sunny though the sun will set in a couple of hours."

Atia shot a beaming smile over at Alistair and a politer one to the high elf. "Thank you."

A growling sound issued from Alistair's stomach and he blushed at Atia's answering smirk. "Sorry."

"Hungry?" she asked. "Do you feel up to walking?"

"Yes, I think so." Alistair stood and looked down at his attire. He wore leather pants with tan linens and brown boots. It wasn't fancy like her dress but not many people cared about such things. "Do I look suitable to go out?"

Atia flicked her gaze up and down his body and nodded. "Come on. Lets get you out and about and put something in that stomach of yours."

He followed down and out of the building and onto the campus grounds he held his curiosity in check. There were no signs of Templars or the chantry around the mages. They were allowed to walk around freely discussing subjects such as Conjuration and Destruction. Atia kept close to her charge and tried to remember what it was like to see the Arcane University for the first time. They climbed the stairs to the promenade surrounding the Arch-Mage's tower.

Alistair stare up at the Arch-Mage's tower and then past it to the Imperial Palace that overlooked the entire island the city stood on. It was taller than the Circle Tower and brilliant shades of yellow and white.

"What's the tower?" he asked.

Atia glanced up at the tower in question. "That is the Imperial Palace or White Gold Tower. On a clear day you can see it from the mountains that border the north and east of this Province."

"It's certainly big enough." he replied. "You think the Emperor was trying to compensate for something?"

Atia chuckled and shook her head. "The Imperial Palace is older than the Empire." she gently pushed him to keep walking. "That is a history lesson in and of itself and best left to scholars to tell you."

The newcomer was not excited by the thought of being lectured by a bookish scholar. "Oh goody."

The battlemage at the front gates bowed to her as they left the grounds and crossed the bridge to the Arboretum inside the city walls. The expanse of park was green and blooming and only a few citizens were walking among the statues of the Divines and the trees that shaded them. Alistair frowned up at the statues.

"So these are your Divines?" he asked gesturing to the statue of Akatosh and his human and dragon head. "How many of them are dragons?"

"Two. Akatosh and Lorhkan." she replied. "Well we don't really worship Lorhkan."

"Why not? Is he evil?"

"No, his body makes up Nirn, our physical world and the two moons, Masser and Secunda. He upset the status quo of the divine plane and thus became the earth that which walk on. He tricked the gods into making us." She shrugged and kept walking. "The man in the middle of the Arboretum is Tiber Septim who became Talos. He ushered in the Third Era which we are in now and the current Empire."

"So Martin Septim was his descendant?"

The smile left Atia's face. "Yes, he was the last of the Septim line."

"He was a bastard, like me." Alistair looked down at her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything. Me and my big mouth."

"Don't apologize, Alistair." she sighed. "I think he knew what was going to happen to him. The Septim line had a knack for knowing when they are going to die and plan accordingly."

She bit her lip and they kept walking through the garden and turned towards the center of the city where the Imperial palace stood. On a lower level of the inner circle stood the graves and crypts of the families that made the capital their home. Alistair kept his head tilted to gawk at the tower making the citizens that walked along the base to stare at him.

Gently she guided him off the main circle and started towards the gate opposite from the Universities. The sky was growing darker and the torches lining the walls and buildings were being lit by the Guard.

Alistair smiled down at her. "Your capital is certainly cleaner than Denerim. No dirty roads or filth on the streets."

Atia nodded and smirked. "Most of the major cities in this province have paved streets and since we're on an island it is easier to have a sewer system."

They took a right and the connecting street and headed into the small square to their left. There were a couple of statues, long dead emperors, and they stepped inside a small, dingy tavern that was tucked into the corner. For being tucked away it was busy with beings that he had just learned about today and some he had not seen before. There was hideous looking creature with a large head and green skin. His teeth protruded from his bottom lips like a beast and he tried not to stare.

A green skinned elf in raggedy clothing greeted them as they entered. "Put on the Feed Bag! I'm Delos Fandas. We got food and drink, and lots of it." he came over and gave Atia a hug. "You are most certainly welcome here, Grand Champion!"

Atia couldn't outright fight the hug that the Dunmer thrust upon her but she didn't encourage it. She hoped Alistair didn't pick up on the 'Grand Champion' business.

He turned to Alistair. "And you sir, welcome! Welcome! I shall bring out my specialty and a bottle of Tamika's just go find herself a seat."

The Dunmer hurried off to get two plates of his 'specialty' leaving Atia and Alistair to wind their way through the tables to one that was far off into the corner. A few of the patrons followed their progress but otherwise left them alone.

"Grand Champion, huh?" Alistair teased as they took their seats. His eyes gleamed with humor and he smiled.

Atia felt her face flush. "It-It's nothing exciting and I'd rather not talk about it."

"Why not? It's sounds very interesting." Alistair nudged her arm with his elbow. "Maybe I should ask one of these nice patrons?"

"Maybe you don't want to be bludgeoned by a wine bottle, hmm?" she threatened with an innocent smile. "There is plenty of time for you to know everything there is about me. Forcing it might hurt your pretty head."

Alistair laughed. "So I do get to learn everything about you _and_ you think I have a pretty head!"

Dolas thankfully saved her from answering with two bowls of fluffy white potatoes with carrots, veal and bread along with two goblets of deep red wine. Everything about the Feed Bag was slightly ragged but hardy, the people, the food. Atia had eaten in many places in Cyrodiil and most of the places tried to make you feel like you were in someone's home or some fancy residence. For the last few months Atia ate around a camp fire with venison or boar meat. A couple of times she had taken to eating rat meat but only when she was starving.

She and Alistair ate in silence, Alistair's attention drawn to their surroundings while she kept to herself, wondering, thinking. Time slowed for them both and for a few moments they were two people eating in a tavern, drinking rich, full wine. Off in the corner of the room, Atia noticed something move, like something was wrapped in a blanket of their surroundings and wiggled about under it. She didn't stop eating but nor let her eyes stay to the spot of her attention. The shifting stopped and she wondered who was spying on who.

"What are you staring at?" Alistair asked, setting his chin on his palm and smirking at her.

"Nothing." she replied quickly and looked down at his empty bowel. "Still hungry?"

"Huh?" Alistair looked down at where she was looking at and shook his head. "No that was quite filling. So what now?"

"What do you mean 'What now'? You're going back to the Arcane University."she replied with a smirk.

The young man gave her a sad puppy dog face that made her suppress a a grin. "But then I'll be around all those mages." he whined.

"Ooh, poor baby." she simpered.

"Please, can we stay out? Please?"

His begging was adorable, she had never seen anyone over the age of ten beg like Alistair was doing now. His bottom lip quivered and his eyes glimmered with feigned sadness. Martin had never pulled anything like this since she had known him. He was stoic, smart, solid and for a minute Alistair's face was replaced by his. She never saw much of Martin, always off doing quests for him and the Blades. She only saw him reading in the Temple's great hall. Nothing more than the ex-fugitive that was their errand girl. She felt the anger well up in her chest, ready to burst from her throat in front of people she didn't even know. Abruptly she stood almost knocking over her goblet in the process.

"No, you are going back to the University." she replied thickly. "Now."

She reached into her coin purse and pulled out a fist full of gold and deposited them on the table. Roughly she grabbed a hold of Alistair's arm and pulled him up from his chair. None of the other patrons dared to notice their hero man handle the newcomer. Atia dragged a shocked Alistair out of the Feed Bag and through the Market District. They entered the Arena District before Alistair managed to pry her extremely strong grip off of him. There might be a bruise there in the morning but she didn't care and her treatment shocked him.

"I don't deserve that." he replied sharply. "But don't treat me like a child."

Atia stopped abruptly and spun around to stare up at him. Her eyes were wide with shock at his tone and then she blinked. The shock went away and she shook her head to clear it of the expression. For a moment she stared up at him, wondering what to do and in the end her brow furrowed in disappointment.

"You're right," she replied. "I'm sorry for treating you like that. You don't deserve it. I-I've just had a bad couple of days."

Alistair knew what she was talking about and without thinking about it pulled her into an embrace. Her arms wrapped around his torso and her cheek pressed against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat under his shirt and it was comforting, warm. The two folded into each other, Alistair slouching over to let his cheek rest on her head. They stood in the middle of the walkway of the Arena District until an

Imperial Guard came by with a torch in hand. The man cleared his throat loudly making Atia jump out of Alistair's grasp.

"Yes, um, well lets get you back to the University before Traven has a conniption fit." she replied quickly and with a spin on her heel started off in the direction of the Arcane University with Alistair right on her heels.


End file.
